


Ivory Beauty

by Twykad



Series: Malec Week 2017 [4]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Cute, King!Magnus, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Magnus Bane Needs A Hug, Malec Week, Malec Week 2017, galatea!Alec, pygmalion!Magnus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-30 02:46:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10867440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twykad/pseuds/Twykad
Summary: Malec week day 4 ! Greek mythologyMagnus, one of the king leaving in Greece, has a passion for sculpting. One day, he fall in love with a piece of his work.OrIn which Magnus is Pygmalion and Alec is the beautiful Galatea





	Ivory Beauty

There was a king, whose name was Magnus, in Greece whom beauty and kindness were known by all. By all means, he was different from all the other royalties  and mainly, he was lonely and had yet to found someone to share his life.

It wasn’t that no one wanted that, no, everyday women and men would woo him, would try to win his heart. They were nice but Magnus could see that they only were there for his money and the throne. He had almost been tricked once by one of the women. ‘Never again’ he had promised to himself, and from this day, he remained single and lonely. 

But the king was a man of talent and Magnus spent days and nights in his atelier sewing and sculpting.

One day, he decided to sculpt the one person who would be his ideal of beauty. He didn’t know them, him, the man he was creating probably didn’t even exist, but if he did, if he did exist,  he would look just like that.

Magnus worked for weeks on his new masterpiece and forbid anyone to bother him. He needed to be alone for it to be perfect. He needed to be able to focus and get rid of any distraction. He barely even ate.

 

In town, people started talking; saying their king was obsessed or worse, that he had gone crazy. That loneliness had ended up eating him alive to the point he lose himself. Some were worried, some pessimistics seemed to think he would soon die and some others kept hoping for their king to come back, all magnificent, all kindness, all himself again. 

 

It was nighttime when Magnus finished his statue, sweat rolling on his temples, hands calloused from all the work he had put them into. He didn’t dare to look at his piece yet, as if he wouldn’t bear it. He didn’t feel ready. Instead, he went to the small bed he had put in the atelier. He, who often couldn’t sleep, found peace that night.

 

Hot rays of sunshine woke him up the next morning and the first thing his eyes laid on was his statue. Magnus breath hitched, because oh, in the name of all the Gods and Goddesses, it was beautiful.

The man he had carved in ivory was borderline perfect. He was tall, taller than Magnus and his eyes, though devoid of life, had this sweetness the king had never seen in anyone alive before. Wide lips were shaped under a slightly upturned nose gave his face a gracious and gentle aura. The hair despite being carved in the same material seemed messy, wild even. The body was toned and muscular, if one saw it, they would automatically feel the urge to touch. Magnus had never felt so proud and oh is it needed to say he fell in love immediately? He wasn’t one to name his statues but he made an exception for this one. Alexander. 

Magnus didn’t realise at first how madly in love he had fallen. He spent his days staring at him, sometimes touching the cold features of the ivory man, brushing them delicately with the tip of his fingers. He liked to imagine how soft the skin of the man would be if he was real, the colour of his eyes, the colour of his hair, the shade of his lips. Would his skin be tan or as pale as the material he was made of? Would his eyes be brown? Green? Blue? Hazel? Would his hair be blonde? Black? Ginger? Would his lips be a shade of red or a shade of pink? And how would the voice escaping them would sound? Would it be deep and sweet? He thought so. Sometimes, the king would even allow himself to picture the personality of the man. He imagined him to be a shy but straightforward man, loyal, always, and full of love and passion.  And more and more often, he dreamt of him and the love they could share if he was real, if they were together.

 

Fantasy was enough at first but slowly, Magnus found himself needing more. Daydreaming made him realise even more how this would never happened, because Alexander, his Alexander was ivory. He was cold and didn’t, couldn’t, feel anything. He couldn’t be aware of Magnus’ love and was a stranger to emotions. He wasn’t real. He was only a fragment of his imagination existing only under the form of a statue. Sadness and despair hit him hard and he closed himself once again. Looking at his statue, at his Alexander only brought him pain and heartbreak.

The King didn’t know which God or Goddess to pray, which one would ease his pain and make him feel whole again, he just didn’t feel alive anymore. Magnus thought and thought, and finally, he decided to pray Aphrodite, Goddess of Love, she only would hear and understand him, at least he hoped. 

Magnus went to the nearest temple, giving to the Goddess as much richness and presents he could hold and fell to his knees, begging.

 

“Ô Aphrodite, Goddess of Love and Beauty, please hear my prayer. I fell in love with what is not to be loved in a romantic way and sadness is burying me alive. I beg you Ô my Goddess, free me from my distress.”

 

Aphrodite, who knew about the king and the affection he bear for his statue. His Alexander. She had found herself quite impressed and the prayer she received from Magnus, so pained and so heartfelt touched her so much she decided to help him.

 

When the Goddess appeared in front of him, Magnus first had a movment of terror, not expecting the visit of such a sacred creature. She was has beautiful as it was said. Her perfection was shining through her whole aura and body and Magnus was mesmerised when she smiled to him.

 

“Magnus.” She spoke and her voice was smooth and melodious. “I have seen the love you bear for this man you carved in ivory and I found myself moved by how pure it is. I will not take that love from you but I will grant you something else. This statue of yours you call Alexander, I will grant him to live.” She touched the king’s cheek, now wet with tears. “Love him and show him the world, King Magnus.”

 

Magnus blinked and found himself alone in the temple. He got up, his legs shaking, processing what had just happened. Aphrodite had granted Alexander to live. The Goddess had granted him to become real. And at the realisation that his Alexander might be alive right now, he ran to his home, to his atelier, only to find his statue, still unmoving, still ivory. Had he dreamt the Goddess? Had his mind played a cruel trick on him?

The king walked to his work and touched its cheek. Closing his eyes, he brought his lips to Alexander’s cold ones. It was a goodbye kiss. Tomorrow, out of sorrow, he decided that he will destroy the statue and try to bury this love deep inside of him. But as he was thinking that, the lips between his became warmer, soft even and, surprised, Magnus pulled away, watching with wide eyes whiteness making place for colour and ivory changing to skin and hair and flesh. Soon enough, a young man was facing him.

 

His skin still had the colour of ivory but his lips were pink and his eyes were hazel. Black hair was falling on his face and he blinked, confused, looking around him. When his stare finally stopped on Magnus, he shyly smiled as a blush started creeping on his cheeks and never before the king had seen such a sweet and loving smile.

 

“Magnus.” He said.

 

His voice was deep, almost mysterious and soothing, even better than how Magnus had imagined it. Alexander approached him, hesitant,before brushing the king’s skin like the latter had done so many time with him. Magnus smiled back, and cupped the man, the  _ real  _ man, cheeks, and gently made him lean so their foreheads touched.

 

“Alexander.” He whispered.

  
Their eyes locked for a few second and then, then they kissed. It was soft, it tasted sweet and it felt like life. 

**Author's Note:**

> kudos are welcome! <3


End file.
